


Pieces of You

by shalelightstone



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, blink and you miss it - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 07:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shalelightstone/pseuds/shalelightstone
Summary: Maria had a box of Carol's things hidden from Monica in the top of her closetAnd then Carol comes home.





	Pieces of You

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two

     There were some things Monica didn’t know Maria had. When Carol had died, they boxed up all of her stuff and put it in the attic, neither having enough in them to get rid of anything. Monica had raided those boxes, but Maria had her own stash too, hidden around the house. 

     Stuffed in a manila envelope behind her dresser was a beat up composition book and dozens of letters. Maria had the intention of showing them to Monica at some point, but not yet. She was still young, there were things that Maria wanted to protect her from, but she knew she couldn’t protect her forever. Some day she would have to learn the truth about the demons in Carol’s mind, but not today, not until she could properly understand. Maria watched Carol fight her brain over and over again. Her family had really done a number on her. From what Maria could gather, being the younger sister of two brothers and the daughter of an alcoholic father had made her the subject of relentless abuse, both physical and emotional. Maria remembered kissing a particular scar on Carol’s shoulder from where her father smashed a beer bottle. The childhood trauma was where the composition book began. It wasn’t a diary, not really, it was just more a place where Carol could vent all her emotions, and work through her brain. The thought of a teenage Carol not having anyone to talk to broke Maria’s heart, Maria making sure that she would always be there for the blonde woman. Eventually the use of the book died down, as Carol started to take Maria up on her silent offer, but the book never went away. Enlisting presented a new wave of abuse, being a woman in a men’s club led her to relentless harassment from other soldiers, and with that abuse came new entries. Maria had never read the book until after Carol was pronounced dead, but she knew about it. She knew that she was treated as a punching bag by her brothers, she knew that Carol had started cutting herself when she was fourteen and her father had told her she would never amount to anything, she knew that a drunk scumbag had cornered her on the way out of a bar and tried to force her to give him a hand job after seeing her kiss Maria on the cheek. Maria knew a lot of things, but not everything. There were nights when Carol would wake up screaming, Maria having to pull her out of a night panic. Sometimes a piece of the past would be revealed those nights, sometimes she would just cup Carol’s face and try to help normalize her breathing. There were other things that Maria noticed too. Carol would stop cold and start to hyperventilate at the smell of peppermint. Maria never asked, and Carol never told. When Maria finally did read the book, she was brought to tears over and over again at the pain Carol had experienced. Realization hit. Nightmares about the abuse she experienced were common, those were the nights that Carol would talk. Sometimes, the nightmares were about losing Monica, or Maria. Those were the nightmares that tore Carol up the most. Those were the nights that Carol wouldn’t be able to do anything but curl up with her forehead on her knees, Maria running a hand up and down her arm. And the smell of peppermint reminded Carol of Christmas when she was sixteen, when her dad found her kissing another girl under mistletoe behind the shed, called her a dyke, and met her at the door with a duffle bag, saying she had no right to be under his roof. That story never made it to Maria, she learned that from the book. And while Maria knew about the book, she had no idea about the letters. 

     The letters had been found in the back of the sock drawer. There were about 30, addressed to all sorts of people. Maria had quickly put together that anytime the pain became too much, and the book wasn’t working, Carol would turn the pain into anger, and direct that anger toward someone. Even after six years, Maria had only read two letters, not being able to bring herself to read more. Instead, she put all of it into an envelope and slid it behind her dresser.

     Despite all the pain that Carol had been through, her spirit never broke. She remained snarky, confident, sarcastic, and Maria loved every minute of it. When she looked at the blonde, Maria saw nothing but strength. Carol’s ability to hold her calm while getting yelled at by an Officer, as well as her strength to be vulnerable in front of Maria. 

     Another thing Monica didn’t know about was the box in the top of Maria’s closet. It was just a shoebox, battered a bit, stuffed behind a old pair of boots. This box held a couple things Maria wanted to keep to herself. On the top of the box was one of Carol’s old tee-shirts, the one she had been wearing on their last night together. When Maria had come home after the crash, she saw the shirt crumpled in a ball on the bed. That night she cried herself to sleep, clutching the shirt to her chest, Monica curled up next to her. After that night, Maria only brought the shirt out on days when emotions were particularly raw, her birthday, the anniversary of the crash. Stashed below the tee shirt is a music box, the only thing that Carol had saved from her childhood. A heavily dog-eared, worn, beat up copy of  _ The Catcher in the Rye  _ sat under the music box. It was Carol’s favorite book, and this particular copy featured several hand written notes and thoughts throughout. There was also a framed photo of the two of them, Maria sitting on the porch, legs dangling of the edge, and Carol laying on her back with her head in Maria’s lap. The photo had been taken by a friend, but Maria loved it so much because of how unaware the two of them were. Maria was looking at something off in the distance, but Carol was looking up at Maria with an expression of pure love. There was a dried carnation, gently placed as to not be crushed, that Carol gave Maria one night. It was a mild Oscar Wilde reference, but Maria just loved it.

     One of the most important items in the box was a small velvet box tucked in the corner. Inside contained a ring, a promise. They couldn’t get married, legally at least, but they could damn well go through the motions. They had love for eachother, who cared about a piece of paper. The ring was supposed to signify that bond, to show that Maria was committing her life, was still committed, to Carol, and if their marriage would ever be recognized by the country they would be signing that paper the first chance they got. Maria never got to give that ring to Carol, and it was one of her biggest regrets. She sat on her fear, the fear that Carol would leave at any sign of commitment. So now the box sits untouched in a shoebox that Maria keeps in the top of her closet, a promise never made, that Maria can never forgive herself for.

 

     The first time Carol returns, it's tears, and coping with her not being dead. It’s love and it’s rehashing old feelings. It’s Carol realizing she loved, loves, Maria, and then it's Carol leaving and it all went so fast. Eight months later, Carol returns again, for good this time, and it's more time to sit and sort through the past. One night, after Monica had gone to bed, the pair went out to the front porch and just sat. 

     “There was more than just, ‘I didn’t get along with my family’ wasn’t there?” Carol asks, quiet for the first time maybe ever. 

     “There was,” Maria nods. “I have some stuff I can show you, stuff Monica doesn’t know about, but only if you are ready.” Carol nods, and Maria stands up. “I’ll go grab it, stay here.” Maria tiptoes through the house, careful not to wake Monica. She pulls out the envelope and the box, quickly pulling out the ring and hiding it in her sock drawer. That was for another time.

     Coming back out onto the porch, Maria hands Carol the box first. Carol started going through the items one by one, clarity coming to her face. She flipped through the  _ Catcher in the Rye,  _ smiling to herself reading some of the notes. One by one, Maria saw memories coming back into Carol’s mind. Carol was remembering on her own, it just took some prodding. 

     Maria was hesitant to give Carol the book, but in the end she decided too. It was Carol’s after all. As soon as the book landed in Carol’s hands, Maria saw her demeanor change. Her face fell suddenly, her shoulders slumped, and for the first time since she came back, she looked broken, but only to a trained eye.

      “Not all memories are happy huh,” Carol tried to joke, throwing in a half-hearted smirk.

     “You know what this is, don’t you?” Maria says, gently rubbing Carol’s forearm. Carol just nodded, sadly.

     “He was one hell of an asshole,” Carol muttered. Maria isn’t quite sure who Carol was talking about, not that it really mattered.

     They sat on the porch in silence for another 20 minutes. Carol just stared at the notebook, never opening it.  Finally, Maria spoke up.

     “It’s getting late. Do you want to head up?” She stood up, reaching her hand out to Carol. Carol took it, standing up, and the pair headed to the bedroom. 

      They didn’t need to change, the two of them already in tank tops and shorts, so they brushed their teeth and got into bed. Carol started shifting down into their normal position, and Maria almost followed suit when she realized that Carol had silent tears streaming down her face. Instead of rolling over to be the little spoon, like Maria did every night, she faced Carol. She brought her hands up to Carol’s face and wiped the tears away with her thumbs. She leaned forward, kissing the blonde’s forehead, then her cheek, then her lips. Carol’s tears started to fall faster as Maria brought Carol towards her, embracing her, and stroking her hair.

     “They hurt me so much Maria,” Carol whispered through broken silent sobs.

     “I know baby, but you defied them,” Maria whispered back. She kept repeating that, “You defied them,” until she felt Carol start to calm down. “Let me hold you tonight, baby,” Maria prompted, helping Carol roll over, letting Maria be the big spoon. Maria didn’t let herself sleep until she was sure Carol was asleep first. Maria whispered one last time, “You defied them,” before drifting off to sleep. 

 

     Maria wished she could say that that night was a one time occurrence, but neither of them could ever be that lucky to not see the other one in pain again. Carol having to deal with remembering her shitty upbringing, on top of PTSD and guilt from her time in battle with the Kree, meant that more times than once a similar event would occur. Maria had her own share of shit to deal with as well, which Carol handled fluently with a gentle hand and soothing words. It was hard, but it was love.

     Nearly two years later, Maria dug the ring out of the back of her sock drawer. It wasn’t a big deal, it wasn’t a huge event. It wasn’t at Disney World or on the beach. It wasn’t even at a restaurant. It was in their kitchen. 

     Maria, Monica, and Carol were all having a family dinner, because that is what they are, a family. Maria had taken the ring out of the box, and tucked it into her pocket. Monica was talking about her day at school while they were all scarfing down roasted sweet potatoes. When Monica came to the end of her story, Maria spoke up. 

     In one huge moment of courage, Maria said, “Carol,” and then she pulled the ring out of her pocket, getting down on one knee. Monica squealed, and Carol brought her hand up to her mouth in disbelief. “Carol Susan Jane Danvers. I love you. You and Monica are the two most important people in the world to me. I’ve had to live in a world without you, and it is not a place I want to return to. I love you, and while the world might not recognize that love, I recognize that love, and I hope that will be enough for you. Will you grant me the privilege of becoming your wife?” By the end of her speech, Maria was almost in tears, and Carol was crying. 

     “Yes, yes of course,” Carol exclaims, grasping Maria’s face, and pulling her up into a kiss. Maria broke away to slide the ring onto Carol’s finger. It wasn’t anything extravagant, it didn’t even look like a wedding ring. It was a simple gold band, with nothing on it. It was intentionally simple, Maria knowing Carol wouldn’t want anything flashy, but also to avoid any awkward, “Oh who’s your husband” questions. It was perfect. Maria pulled Carol back into a kiss, Carol pulling away this time.

     “You okay with this, Lieutenant Trouble?” Carol askes, turning to Monica. 

     “Duh… obviously,” Monica exclaimed, rushing over to hug her mom and Carol, her  _ moms. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism always welcome.


End file.
